Planet's Son
by Karen Kisaragi
Summary: Tifa's discovery of a ten year old boy calling himself Loz leads the party to wonder if the events of Advent Children will happen again. AU, part of a larger story. Not TifaxLoz


Prologue

With a supressed sigh, Tifa rolled over in bed once again. The flickering streetlamps from outside streamed in through the blinds, casting a blue glow over the tiny bedroom. Tifa stared vacantly at the empty bed beside her, her thoughts circling over multiple scenarios. Cloud had left a week prior, leaving Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel to watch the business for him. He'd confided in her a few days before that, claiming he could feel Aerith calling out to him somewhere. Rather than be a killjoy, Tifa had simply smiled patiently at him, her outward appearance that of a supportive childhood friend when inside she was screaming. Always, _always_, it came back to his obsession with redeeming himself to Aerith. While Tifa had no real issue with the late flower girl, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy whenever Cloud spoke of her. The way he put it, Aerith was this majestic goddess, incapable of error or fault. Far from the heavens Aerith inhabited within Cloud's mind, Tifa stood on the cold, unforgiving ground, eternally looking up but never able to fly.

Tifa sighed again, turning onto her back. She couldn't bring herself to hate Aerith. It wasn't like she'd asked Cloud to worship her. Tifa was certain the very notion of it would've made the girl laugh. Even when speaking of her unique heritage, Aerith had never held herself above the others. She'd treated everyone the same, or at least she'd tried to. Deep inside, Tifa knew Aerith took allowances with Cloud. In many ways, she'd mothered him, either oblivious of his feelings or simply too polite to reject them. Though she hated to admit it, Tifa was guilty of mothering him, too. How could a woman not? His very demeanor screamed for a maternal hand to guide him. Tifa, herself, was maternal almost to a fault, taking in those with no homes and giving them a loving family. Denzel was one such orphan and had since become a treasured part of their little family unit. A family unit that sadly lacked the 'father'.

Grunting, Tifa rose from bed and quickly dressed. Staying in bed without sleeping served no purpose. Even if she'd managed to sleep, she'd still be plagued with concern for Cloud's wellbeing. At least if she did something to exhaust herself, maybe her mind would follow suit and permit her to rest. Reaching for the bar's front door keys as she passed the bedstand, Tifa strode down the stairs and out into the night.

********

The air was chilly and damp, causing Tifa to wish she'd thought to bring a coat. She hugged herself loosely as she made her way through the old sectors of Midgar's ruins. Just as it had provided shelter and comfort for the millions infected with Geostigma, Tifa sought the Church. Aerith's church. Tifa smiled wryly. Maybe even she, too, was lost without the gentle girl's patient guidance. Or maybe she was just _lost_.

Even with the responsibility of taking care of Denzel and Marlene, Tifa still felt the need to fill that empty space Cloud had left in her. The children were quickly becoming quite self-sufficient, no longer needing Tifa as much as before. Much of the time, Tifa spent days by herself in the bar, taking the few calls that trickled in from their companions. Nanaki continued to live on the other side of Edge with Reno and Vincent was constantly missing in action, not that he would pick up his phone even if Tifa had rung it multiple times a day. Barret checked in now and again, mostly to speak with Marlene and ask gruffly after Cloud, only to offer up some insult-riddled opinion upon recieving an answer.

The soothing green glow emitting from the church's entrance drew Tifa in from her negative thoughts and she smiled humbly for its existance. She passed through the archway, breathing in the comforting scent of yellow flowers at the far end of the main hall. The surface of the healing lake shimmered in the moonlight streaming down from the damaged ceiling, sending brillant sparkles to bounce off the repaired pews and footbridges. Tifa circled the shore of the lake, heading for the remembrance garden Marlene and Cloud had planted. She crouched low to touch the various colored flowers, sending small prayers to the friends they represented as she did so.

The splash of the water drew her attention from the blooms and she gasped suddenly. Standing in the center of the lake was a small boy, his head angled up towards the hole in the ceiling. Tifa rose slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she stepped closer to the water's edge. Hearing her, the boy turned. Tifa froze. Impossibly bright green eyes stared in her dark ones, jarring a memory inside her. Cautiously, she removed her sneakers and waded into the water towards the boy. He watched as she neared and she could see he was completely naked. What she percieved as moonlight coloring his hair and highlighting his alarmingly pale skin was soon revealed to be false. He really was that pale and his hair really was...silver?

Tifa stopped, her heart pounding. They stood a few feet from each other, gazes locked as silence dragged between them. Finally, he screwed his face up as tears began to flow down his round cheeks. Tifa's heart lurched as he covered his face with his hands, now openly bawling into them. Instinctively, she fell to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his small shoulders. To her surprise, he stumbled forward into her arms and pressed himself to her chest, still sobbing. Tifa gingerly embraced him, genuinely uncertain what to say or do.

She held him silently until his weeping subsided and he'd relaxed somewhat in her arms. Finding the courage to speak, she whispered, "What are you doing here? Where are your parents? Do you have a name?"

Sniffling still, the boy choked out a response, "I'm l-l-looking for M-mother. I can't fi-find her!" Tifa felt his body tense up, readying itself for another onslaught of tears. She quickly pulled him closer and stroked his hair -- his eerily silver hair -- in hopes of calming him down again.

"Shhh..." she murmured gently. "It's all right. We'll find her. I promise." This seemed to placate him and she asked his name again. This gave him pause as he pulled away from her slightly, his features contorting in intense concentration. Fearing another outburst, Tifa smiled at him kindly. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. Would you like to come with me? I have a nice house nearby and plenty to eat. Are you hungry?" He nodded slowly. "Okay. Here, come with me now. There, there.." She took his hand and rose up, ignoring her sodden clothes and chilled skin. She couldn't imagine how cold he felt! She would have to do something about that.

She led him out of the water and onto the wooden floor. She bade him wait a moment while she fetched something to wrap him in. He stood on the banks shivering as Tifa searched the donation boxes for a blanket. Finding one, she brought it back over to him and swathed him snugly in it. He smiled shyly at her, his chin ducking into the blanket. Tifa chuckled gently, rubbing the blanket's softness over his wet skin and drying him. He was awfully cute, she thought, daring to flick a fingertip over his small nose, encouraging a childish giggle from him.

Now bundled up, Tifa hoisted the boy's slight weight into her arms, cradling him against her chest firmly. He stared at her in open admiration as she made her way back to the bar. Tifa glanced down at him with a smile, trying very hard not to let her previous thoughts color her expression. She'd think about that later, if there was even a need to. Right now, he needed clothes, food, and a place to sleep. She'd worry about his origins in the morning, when they'd both had time to rest.

***********

Tifa watched as the boy downed another bowl of soup, amused by his healthy appetite. She'd been unable to find him anything beyond one of Cloud's old uniform sweaters and a pair of Denzel's worn underwear. She'd have to buy him proper clothes in the morning. For now, he seemed lost in Cloud's clothes and Tifa couldn't help but smile at the image. But it was better than being naked and standing in the middle of a lake in the dead of night.

"You certainly were hungry," Tifa remarked, taking the bowl from him and standing. He wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, watching her move about the small kitchen in undisguised awe.

"My name is Loz," he said suddenly. Tifa's fingers loosened their grasp on the bowl and it tumbled noisily into the sink. She clutched the edge of the counter tightly, unable to reclaim the breath that had been knocked out of her. Memories of a man of the same name came flooding back, memories of nearly dying on the floor of the church, and she winced. She felt his eyes on her, felt the fear behind them, and knew she had to compose herself. There was no way it could be the same person. The Loz she'd fought had been an adult and this boy couldn't be more than ten. Still...

Pushing the thoughts from her, Tifa cast a smile over her shoulder at him, hoping it was genuine enough to calm him. He stared at her uncertainly, his lower lip trembling with the onset of fresh tears. "Loz, is it?" Tifa forced her voice to be cheerful as she moved away from the sink and knelt at his side. "What a strong name!"

Loz's mouth continued to wobble as he nodded. "That's what mother said..."

Tifa felt her previous thoughts disappear in the wake of his childlike response. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she realized just how late it had become. "Come on, Loz," she took his hand and helped him from the chair. He stood beside her, one small fist knuckling his eyes. "I think it's time for bed. We can talk more in the morning." He nodded again and allowed her to lead him up the stairs to her bedroom.

Calmly, Tifa pulled back the blankets on Cloud's bed and patted the sheets, inviting Loz to hop in. He climbed up onto the bed and sat near the pillows as Tifa drew the blankets up over his legs and lap. He sat up, staring at her. "Can I really stay here with you?" he asked quietly. Tifa nodded, crouching beside the bed and resting her chin on her folded arms. That encouraged a shaky smile from him and he shifted further down beneath the blankets. He snuggled further into the bed, his smile turning sleepy as he gazed at her. He sought her hand on the covers, gripping her first two fingers in his fist. "Thank you..." His eyes drifted closed as exhaustion set in. Tifa watched as his breathing slowed and became more even. She stayed at his bedside until it became impossible to keep her own eyes open and fell asleep holding his hand.

**********

Months passed without much incident and Tifa soon forgot about her initial concerns. This young boy, this Loz, was very different from the grown man she'd encountered a year ago. Eager, kind, and enthusiastic about life, he'd trailed after her every day since his arrival, asking this and that and greedily absorbing the answers given. He stayed with her during her hours spent in the church, overseeing the construction of the viewing garden and prayer shrine.

In the beginning, Marlene and Denzel weren't sure what to make of this strange boy. Marlene, especially, had eyed him with mixed emotions. Tifa knew why. The girl had been present for the duel then. She remembered the sight of her benefactor being thrown about like a ragdoll and while young Loz bore none of those violent mannerisms, the stubbornly narrowed eyes held an understandable suspicion. Eventually, it had been Denzel's acceptance of a new playmate that had brought the girl about and now the three of them got along like siblings.

Tifa couldn't deny Loz's natural strength, however, and sometimes it would get the better of him, resulting in the injury of those who played with him. She did notice he took great care not to allow Marlene to rough-house with him and the other boys and this touched Tifa's heart. His sensitive nature came out the most when he was around the young girl, leaving Tifa to wonder at the beginnings of a possible crush. The idea amused her, but she kept it to herself, somehow knowing pointing it out would only embarass him.

One afternoon, while Marlene and Denzel were off on their own with their friends, Loz sat with Tifa as she tended the remembrance garden. The reconstruction crews had left for the day and all was quiet and peaceful in the old church.

Tifa frowned a bit at the flowerbed honoring Cid. She lacked the green thumb Aerith had, it seemed. The blooms were losing their brillance and this troubled her greatly. Beside her, Loz eyed the wilting petals thoughtfully, then reached out to cradle them in his palm. Almost immediately they reacted to his touch, lifting their heads to the lingering sunlight. Tifa drew a breath as Loz continued to bestow caresses over the other blooms, making their heavy heads light again. "Amazing!" Tifa whispered. Loz smiled proudly up at her, pleased with himself.

"I like the flowers here," he remarked, pivoting on his heels to touch the other flowers gently. "They seem familiar somehow..." His voice trailed off as his smile softened. "I can tell they like me, too." He paused, his bright eyes shifting to look over at Tifa shyly. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"You can tell me anything, Loz," Tifa assured him with a smile. He blushed, his eyes turning back to the flowers. He stroked their petals gingerly in silence for awhile, then spoke again.

"I can sometimes hear things. Voices. Am I weird?"

Tifa's breath caught in her chest. It was like speaking to Aerith again; she blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. "No. No, that doesn't make you weird at all. That makes you special." She reached out to brush his touseled silver hair from his forehead. "There was another person like you who used to live here. She would talk to the flowers, too."

"Where is she now?"

"I think she's with the flowers now. Maybe she'll speak to you from them someday, if you listen hard enough," Tifa replied, hoping he couldn't hear the strain in her voice. Loz eyed her carefully for a moment. As sensitive as ever, especially to her feelings, he rose to stand before her. With a childish smile, he held out his arms to her, inviting her to come into them. Tifa couldn't deny the hot blush that colored her cheeks at the surprisingly adult gesture, but graciously accepted his offered hug, pressing her cheek to his narrow chest. He hugged her about her shoulders, petting her hair as she had done for him countless times.

"Maybe she'll talk to you, too," Loz whispered, still stroking her hair. Tifa felt the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks and she closed her eyes as the sobs came. Loz held her patiently, his small hand continuing to soothe her. Tifa couldn't be sure what exactly had triggered the emotions in her; the memory of Aerith or the fact Aerith was the reason Cloud wasn't with them now. Guilt mingled with sadness as she found herself becoming a little resentful towards the deceased flower girl. Everyday it became harder and harder to remain objective. She missed Cloud so much she often forgot to breathe. His absence was a palpable thing that time had since failed to lessen. While she had no idea where he could've gone, the urge to go to him was growing stronger everyday. Only her devotion to maintaining the business and the church's restoration kept her from running away in the night.

And Loz. Loz kept her grounded despite his possible origins. If he truly was the same being from then, why had he chosen to come back here? To her? Tifa subconsciously squeezed the boy tighter, as if attempting to force an answer from him. She felt his hand still briefly on her hair. Afraid she was scaring the poor boy, Tifa lessened her hold and began to pull away. Loz let her sit back on her heels again, staring down at her with worried eyes. Tifa forced a smile and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Loz," she apologized breathlessly, continuing to swipe at the stubborn tears, "I didn't mean to hug you so hard. I guess I needed one more than I thought."

"It's okay, Tifa," he replied quietly. "Maybe we should go home now? I'm kinda hungry..."

"Yes. Yes, let's go home. It's getting too dark to see and I know the others will be wanting dinner, too," Tifa agreed, standing and taking his hand. Her smile grew more relaxed and genuine as they walked back to the bar.

Inside her pocket, Tifa fingered the slim cellphone thoughtfully. If anyone would have the answers, he would.

**********

"Remarkable," Vincent breathed as he and Tifa observed Loz playing with the other children in the church. "How strange he would be born here, when Cloud is away."

"You think it was Cloud's memories that did this again?" Tifa asked, worried. Vincent shook his head. Tifa glanced at the silver-haired boy splashing about in the healing lake, his laughter echoing in the wide hall. He seemed so normal, so devoid of the previous Loz's personality and hangups. True, he'd been searching for 'Mother' again when Tifa had found him, but he hadn't mentioned 'Mother' since then. She shared this detail with Vincent, who sat back in his chair and looked pensive.

"That must've been the last thing he'd thought of before his death," Vincent mused, his face disappearing within his high collar. "I didn't think it would be possible for them to return to the Lifestream. He and Yazoo had gone reluctantly if I recall correctly."

Tifa couldn't be sure, either. Cloud's recollection of the incident on the tower had been muddled at best, his mind still reeling from his battle with Sephiroth. A new fear struck Tifa's heart. "What if Loz becomes another Sephiroth?" she asked, gripping Vincent's arm in terror. The gunman started slightly from the contact, but did not pull away. "Couldn't there still be Jenova cells somewhere?"

"I...I'm not sure," Vincent confessed slowly, averting his eyes back to Loz. "If he hasn't mentioned 'Mother' to you at all, then perhaps that desire has left him. To my knowledge, the only source of Jenova cells left is secure. He would never be able to achieve what Kadaj sought. I would see to that." His tone suggested absolute confidence and Tifa refrained from questioning further. With Vincent, it was often best to take his word. "Has he exhibited any abilities?" Vincent asked, breaking into her thoughts.

"Only with the flowers and saying he heard voices," Tifa shrugged. "Beyond that, I wouldn't know. It's strange enough that he can do what Aerith could. I mean, didn't we confirm that Sephiroth wasn't a Cetra and couldn't speak to the Planet?"

"It is my belief that this Loz might not even come from Sephiroth. Or Cloud. Cloud's contact with Loz had been brief. If anyone could've returned from the Lifestream, it would've been Kadaj." Vincent paused, looking closely at Tifa. Tifa's cheeks burned under the close scrutiny. She bore it until he finally looked away. When he didn't offer up his findings, Tifa opened her mouth to speak. Before any words could get out, the gunman rose from his seat and made to leave the church.

"Vincent?" Tifa called out to him, standing.

"I have to go. There's something I must do," came the enigmatic reply as he disappeared through the doors and out of her sight. Tifa's shoulders slumped and she lowered herself back down into her chair. Just once she'd love to speak to a man who didn't keep things from her! Sighing heavily, Tifa slouched in her seat and absently observed the children's play in the lake. Hopefully, whatever Vincent discovered would be shared with her. Eventually. She wasn't going to hold her breath, however.

Grunting again, Tifa crossed her arms stubbornly and blew a strand of hair from her eyes. No wonder she preferred the company of children: they at least were forward with her!

*********

Vincent didn't return to Edge for another three weeks. Whatever he'd been doing during that time had Tifa almost dreading what he was about to say. He'd stalked into the bar during business hours, ignoring the looks of the patrons at this weird man in a red cloak, and had immediately requested an audience with Tifa. Leaving a waitress behind the bar, Tifa had invited Vincent into the back room and that was when the fear made a home in her throat.

"I must take Loz from here. Temporarily," Vincent added quickly at seeing Tifa's reaction. "I know you've become attached to him, but you must remember where he might've come from."

"Where will you go?"

"I am basing these assumptions on his ability to speak to the flowers and on his hearing voices. And on what he might be. I'm taking him back to the forest. He'll walk the same path Aerith did years ago. I believe this may unlock the mystery of his presence."

Tifa hesitated, her fingers pressed to her mouth. She knew it was for the best, especially for the safety of those left in Edge, but the thought of little Loz going through such trials sparked her maternal instinct like mad. When she looked back at Vincent, her dark eyes were harder, determined. To his credit, Vincent held her gaze, unflinching. "You must promise me not to take him to the crater. There's still entirely too much negative energy there. I don't want him exposed to that."

"Tifa, if he is who we think he is, visiting the crater would be --"

"You will not take him there! Or anywhere that might trigger the wrong kinds of memories!" Tifa interrupted fiercely. "If he is borne of the original Loz, it might ruin whatever purpose he has here! You're the only one here who views him as a threat! I see a gentle little boy, eager to be wanted and cared for! He's not a monster!" Her heated words gave Vincent rare pause. He stared at the passionate young woman before him and knew in that instant she would never relent.

"Very well, Tifa. I promise I will not take him to the crater or any other source of negativity," he acceded calmly. "However, it is vital that he see the ancient city. There are secrets there that we have as yet been unable to divulge' Loz might be the key to that information. Surely you would not deny him that chance."

"No, of course not, but..." Tifa faultered, looking away from the gunman.

"You're afraid to let him go," Vincent supplied softly. At Tifa's reluctant nod, he sighed inwardly. "On my word, no harm will come to him. Not by my hands or anyone else's. Does that satisfy you?"

"It's not really about what I want, is it?" Tifa bit back coldly. "Going through me was almost a courtesy. I don't like believing you to be the type who would steal children away in the night, but in this case..." she trailed off, leaving the last words unspoken. Vincent lowered his head deeper into his collar. "Better talk to him," Tifa suggested, turning away from the gunman and making to return to the front of the bar. "He's with Denzel and Marlene, in the church. Excuse me, I have customers." Without waiting for a response, she left the back room, ignoring the burn of Vincent's crimson gaze at her back.

- end part one

************


End file.
